


Tea is Universal

by Le_Tournesol



Series: Sunflower’s H/C Fics [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cold, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Protective Lance, Snow, Spooning, Tea, hurt keith, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14080773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Tournesol/pseuds/Le_Tournesol
Summary: “I mean, it’s just leaves. Tea has to be universal.”Or, Lance and Keith explore an ice planet during a blizzard.





	Tea is Universal

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Чай везде одинаковый](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998960) by [DreamerX2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamerX2/pseuds/DreamerX2)



> Rated for language. I researched hypothermia, but it was all pretty repetitive. Please ignore the various medical inaccuracies. I tried. Hope you enjoy.

The wind howls, but it’s the ominous crack that really unsettles them.

Keith and Lance huddle together, back to back, and survey their surroundings. Keith holds his sword up protectively, and Lance uses the scope on his gun to look into the distance.

“Can you see anything?” Keith asks.

The comms carry his words. The wind drowns out everything else.

“No. I’ve got zero visibility with all this snow,” Lance answers.

Keith exhales, “Okay. We should keep going, or we’ll miss our extraction. Stay alert.”

Lance looks over his shoulder to nod at Keith. They press onward.

The snow impedes their movements and slows them. Keith trudges through the thick blanket of accumulations that’s reached his hips. Lance is only two or three inches away from the same problem, and at the rate its falling it could happen within an hour.

The blue paladin keeps his weapon pressed to his shoulder.

In spite of their armor, the two shiver in the storm. Clearly, while the suits were designed with climate in mind, they weren’t rated for these sorts of wet, frigid conditions for long periods of time.

Two hours on this planet proves to be too long to keep warm.

The pair trek through the blizzard toward the coordinates for the pick-up. They found nothing of importance on this mission, which frustrates them both, but the promise of leaving the planet lifts their spirits marginally.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, the sound fades from mind.

Lance, in an effort to divert his attention from his icy feet, prattles, “Man, when we get back to the Castle, I am going to drink boiling water. I’d kill for hot cocoa or tea or something. I think they sell tea at the space mall. I mean, it’s just leaves. Tea has to be universal.”

Keith doesn’t respond, but Lance knows how to carry the conversation.

Beside, if Keith really thought that Lance’s jabbering was annoying, he’d tell Lance to stop talking.

Lance figures he too appreciates the distraction.

“Actually, I’d ask Hunk to boil the water. Cause I want a hot shower. And maybe he could make some kind of soup. And then I'll steal every blanket in the Castle and make myself a burrito.” He glances at the red paladin, “You’re welcome to share my burrito, Keith.”

Lance thinks the other teen smiles, but it’s hard to tell with the weather.

“I’m going to use this as leverage,” Lance continues. “Go to Wyynn, Lance. It’ll be fine, Lance. It’s just reconnaissance, Lance.” He draws in a breath to bellow, “The Castle’s records need updated, Allura! This became an ice planet at some point in the last 10,000 years!”

He’s mostly joking around to keep his mind off things. No one can hear them anyway. Long-distance communication is useless. He’s glad they set up an extraction point, but he wishes they’d had the lions with them.

Eventually, and less theatrically, Lance adds, “Also, a better weather tracker would be great.”

Keith agrees.

There’s a lull in the conversation.

Keith moves to scout ahead while Lance observes their tracks.

“Clear,” Lance announces. “I think.”

Keith replies a moment later, “Clear.”

Lance pivots to follow him, but he hears it before he sees it.

And he’s too far away to do anything about it.

It’s deafening. The ice cracks. The fissure gapes open beneath Keith’s weight, and he’s immediately sucked below the surface of the planet into glacial water.

“No!” Lance screams uselessly.

Keith doesn’t emerge.

Lance drops to his belly to spread his weight and crawl forward to the break in the ice where Keith vanished seconds beforehand.

Lance reaches the edge of the crack and braces himself, but he still isn’t prepared for the pain when he plunges his arm into the icy water. It cuts him to the bone.

“Fuck,” he swears as his hand gropes beneath the surface.

Within the span of the longest two minutes of his life, his hand grazes something. Blindly, he feels around to orient himself and then grabs what he hopes is Keith’s arm. He pulls. Keith’s head and shoulders surface.

He’s unconscious.

Shock, Lance thinks absently. The sudden submersion into the frosty water put Keith’s body into shock.

“Fuck,” Lance repeats, dragging Keith bodily from the depths.

Keith doesn’t flinch or shiver.

Lance’s stomach plummets. He presses a hand to Keith’s throat. The red paladin’s pulse is erratic.

“Fuck. Fuck. Keith. Fuck,” Lance rolls Keith over to get a better view of his face. The helmet fogs with his shallow breath. “Fuck. Okay.”

Lance carefully pulls them both across the ice. There’s no way to judge when they’re safely on solid ground.

The extraction point, which had already been deemed able to withstand the weight of a pod, is their only hope.

When they’re more than fifty feet away from the hole in the ice, Lance stands. They need to move faster, or they’ll miss their ride, and Keith will freeze to death while they wait for the planet’s rotation to align again.

It’s a risk, but it’s their only chance.

Lance hauls Keith up and throws one of his arms over his shoulder. Lance wraps a hand around Keith’s slight waist.

Keith is a deadweight in his arms, and the mounds of snow make it nearly impossible to travel, but Lance persists until he sees the pod drop from the sky.

He scoops Keith up, one hand behind his knees and the other behind his back, and sprints as quickly as he can through the snow to the pod.

He kicks the button for the the door, and it slides open seamlessly.

Lance spins and kicks a different knob to shut the door and launch them. The pod is set to autopilot with coordinates. Pidge should be waiting for them in her lion somewhere beyond the planet’s atmosphere.

Lance wastes no time. He cranks the heat on the environmental controls, and then he strips Keith and himself out of their wet armor and undersuits. He leaves them in their underwear and pulls Keith into his lap. Lance adjusts him like a rag doll. Lance plants his feet on the ground and tucks Keith between his knees and presses him to his chest. He curls the unconscious teen’s legs beneath his chin to conserve heat, and then he wraps his arms around him. He more or less drapes himself over the smaller figure.

Lance has never been more grateful for the Garrison’s survival training.

He isn’t sure how much this will help. He’s not particularly warm either, but it’s all he can do for now.

It has to be better than sitting in the their soaked armor, and there are blankets in the lions.

They just have to survive the ten minute ride back to Pidge to get them.

Lance exhales in relief when Keith’s eyes eventually flutter open.

“Keith. Oh my gosh. Are you okay? Are you cold?”

It takes Keith a minute to respond. His words slur and Lance’s heart clenches, “M’okay.”

Keith doesn’t appear to notice that he’s cuddled against Lance’s naked chest in nothing but his boxers. He barely seems conscious.

“You’re not cold?” Lance presses, rubbing his hands across Keith’s skin to create friction.

Keith’s eyelids are heavy, but he replies, “...Mmmm... no... m’fine.”

“Fuck,” Lance swears for the umpteenth time.

This is bad.

Keith drifts off, so Lance shakes him, “Hey. No. You can’t sleep.”

Keith whines.

“I mean it, Mullet. Wake up.”

“Tired.”

“I know. I know. You can sleep later.”

He jars Keith again, who grumbles but obediently cracks open his indigo eyes.

“Wha’happened?” He asks.

“Wyynn is fucking terrible,” Lance grunts. “You fell through some ice.”

Keith stays awake, but he doesn’t respond.

They fly along in silence until the pod clears the interference from the planet, and the communicator buzzes to life.

“Right on time, guys,” Pidge tells them.

They see her lion through the window. Green opens her maw and brings them aboard through the hatch.

Lance leaps to his feet with Keith cradled to his chest. He leaves their frozen armour in a heap and dashes for the door to the cockpit.

Since both his hands are occupied, he kicks the door.

“Pidge! Open up!” Lance shouts.

“I’m coming, geesh. What’s your problem?”

The mechanics hum when the door slides out of the way, and Pidge’s expression of annoyance morphs to concern in record time.

“What the fuck? What happened?”

“We need blankets,” Lance says in favor of answering.

“Okay, okay,” Pidge unlatches a cabinet with emergency supplies. She gathers up a plastic tarp and a thick woolen blanket and brings them over to the pair.

Hurriedly, Pidge and Lance arrange the blankets. He and Keith are covered snugly, and Pidge throws the tarp over them to trap the heat in.

“Warm his core before his extremities,” Pidge instructs as she jumps into her pilot’s seat. She cranks the heat and then guns it for the Castle.

Lance knows this much, but doesn’t rebuke her. He buries his nose into Keith’s hair and inhales.

Pidge radioes Coran and launches into a diatribe, “Get the medbay ready. Keith is hypothermic. Likely Stage 2. Possibly Stage 3. He’s going to need warm IV fluids and humidified oxygen. Lance is probably Stage 1.”

“I’m fine,” Lance interrupts. His comment is punctuated by a harsh shiver.

“Shut up,” she says without heat. “Lance will need something warm to drink and eat. They’re going to need a ton of blankets.”

“I’ll have it all ready in a tick,” Coran answers before the screen disappears.

As she flies, Pidge updates them on the mission. Lance figures it’s a method of distraction. Apparently, Hunk has been in contact with her. Hunk, Shiro, and Allura had been significantly more fortunate during their exploration, and they’d found possible allies for the coalition. They were making arrangements for a larger meeting.

“I can’t decide if I should let them know what’s up,” she wonders aloud. “I mean, when Shiro finds out, he’ll be off that planet faster than you can say the words Paladin Popsicles.”

 _Good ol’ Pidge and her twisted sense of humor,_ Lance thinks.

Pidge lands in the hangar, where Coran is already waiting with a stretcher.

Lance tucks the blanket around Keith and carries him from Pidge’s lion, and then he lays him on the stretcher. He makes sure Keith’s feet and hands are wrapped up, but before he can pull away to follow, he feels Keith latch onto his hand. His grip is weak but persistent.

He doesn’t say anything.

Lance doesn’t let go. Rushing alongside Keith and the stretcher, he holds his hand all the way to the infirmary.

Coran inserts the IV into crook of Keith’s elbow and places an oxygen mask over his mouth, and Lance intertwines his fingers with Keith’s under the covers.

Pidge barrels into the room with a mountain of blankets that’s so massive, she’s only visible from the knee down.

“M’fine,” Keith protests as they putter around him in an effort to make him more comfortable.

Pidge levels him with a flat, disbelieving look.

Once they’re sure Keith’s out of the immediate danger , Pidge points to Lance, “All right. You. Bed. Now.”

Lance lifts his hands to protest, but Pidge cuts him off.

“Nope. Bed. I’m cold just looking at you,” Pidge crosses her arms.

The bed is on the other side of the room. Lance looks a bit stricken. His face reddens, “Um.. do... do I have...?”

He doesn’t want to be so far from Keith, whose life had been in danger only minutes ago. Keith, who Lance had hauled unconscious across a frozen tundra. Keith, who looks so pale and small under the pile of quilts and comforters with an IV drip at his bedside and a mask over his face.

Keith was unreal sometimes. Larger than life, Lance had watched him dive headfirst into battle with no fear or hesitation. He’d seen him navigate asteroid fields at breakneck speeds with ease, like he was just out for a morning run in the park. Keith had thrown himself in danger’s path and come out the other side more times than Lance could count.

Now, he looks vulnerable, which is a word he’s never associated with Keith.

It took time, but he learned that there was more to Keith than his expert piloting and cavalier attitude.

Lance knew that a lot of Keith’s persona was forged in strife: loneliness, abandonment, neglect, abuse. He was trying to protect himself from a world that had tried to destroy him.

Underneath all that real ferocity, Keith was a big, awkward dork who wanted to belong somewhere.

But even with all of this information, it was still easy to picture Keith as untouchable.

Seeing him like this is jarring. It’s frightening because it’s breaks apart a misconception about Keith that Lance didn’t even realize he’s harbored.

Keith isn’t invincible.

He’s as human as the rest of them.

 _Well_ , Lance thinks as he surveys him, _so to speak._

Sensing his distress, Coran wheels the bed over and gestures for Lance to bundle up.

Pidge presents him with a hot cup of tea.

Lance cradles the mug and murmurs,”It is universal.”

Pidge quirks an eyebrow but ignores his odd comment.

“We need to go check in with the others. They should be finishing up soon, but I’ll be back within the varga,” Coran hands Lance a communicator. “Call if you need anything.”

Pidge follows him from the room, but she promises to return with clothes for them before she heads to the bridge.

When everyone is gone, Lance scoots the beds so close together that the mattresses touch.

He automatically reaches out for the smaller boy, whose hand shivers in his grip.

“Hey,” Lance whispers. His voice is a little gravelly, so he clears his throat. “You okay?”

Likely too worn out to bother removing the mask, Keith merely nods and croaks, “You?”

“Yeah. I’m great.”

Pidge returns with soft, warm clothing for both of them.

She tosses it at Lance, “Get yourselves dressed. I’ve seen enough.”

She wastes no time on small talk and leaves so they can change.

Lance shifts through the pile and pulls out two pairs of his sweats. Apparently, Keith doesn’t have any, so Pidge just grabbed more of Lance’s stuff.

He also finds socks, long-sleeved shirts, and jackets. Everything belongs to Lance.

He maneuvers Keith into one of the t-shirts and his jacket, which he zips to his chin. The sleeves cover his hands, but Lance doesn’t bother to roll them up.

Keith lets Lance dress him, and he only protests when Lance starts to help him with the pants. Sluggishly, he tugs them on himself while Lance puts on his own clothes.

Afterward, Keith slouches against the pillows like the effort left him exhausted.

When Lance looks him over, he can’t help but notice his joggers are too loose on Keith’s hips and too long.

It’s... unexpectedly cute.

Keith shivers, and Lance reminds himself to focus.

“Cold?” Lance asks. This is a good sign.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” Lance answers. He’s not sure when he started rubbing slow circles on Keith’s wrist.

He’s not sure which of them moves first.

Arms reach and bodies shuffle and soon Keith’s back is pressed to Lance’s chest, and his head is tucked under Lance’s chin.

Lance curls around him.

They keep their hands linked, and Lance presses his lips to the nape of Keith’s neck.

They end up in the same bed.

They lie without speaking.

Keith’s breathing is soft and even, and it lulls Lance into a light doze.

But he knows needs to stay awake.

Because this is still new.

When Lance realizes he won’t be able to keep his eyes open, he starts to untangle himself.

Keith whines faintly in complaint.

“Shh, babe,” Lance soothes. “I shouldn’t fall asleep here. We’ll get caught.”

Keith huffs and wrinkles his brow.

Lance smoothes Keith’s inky hair out of his face, “Someone’s going to walk in any minute.”

Keith rolls to look at his boyfriend, “D’n’t care.”

Lance blinks, “You sure?”

Keith nods and then returns to his original position.

“Sleepy Keith, if Everyday Keith isn’t happy about this, you’re taking the fall,” Lance quips.

Keith’s shoulders twitch with a huffed laugh, but he drops off within seconds.

It’s really only been a few weeks since they worked out they were more than friends, and they hadn’t told anyone yet.

They’d grown closer over their time in space, so no one questioned when they’d wander off together.

Nonetheless, their current position would leave little doubt about the nature of their relationship.

Keith didn’t seem to mind, though, and Lance is too exhausted to think about it too much.

So Lance relaxes and follows his lead.

 

  
“Lance?”

Lance’s dreams are unpleasant and unsettlingly realistic. There’s ice and pain and a thundering discord and agony and he can’t find Keith.

 _He can’t find Keith_.

Lance jerks into consciousness with the taste of word no in his mouth. His lungs heave, and his heart pounds, and his chest aches with the force of his fear. He sucks in a breath and curls into himself.

But he can’t. Because Keith is soft and pliant next to him in the bed.

Lance sighs in relief and presses a feathery kiss to his shoulder.

“Lance? You okay?”

The question cuts through the quiet. Lance’s face warms. They’re not alone.

“I’m sorry. You were moving around so much I thought you were awake.”

It’s Shiro.

Oh my gosh of course it’s Shiro.

Shiro, Keith’s older brother, stands in the doorway with one fist still on the knob.

“Um,” Lance sputters. For all of his endless chattering, he finds he has nothing to say in this situation.

Shiro appears staggered, and Lance resists the urge to bury his face in Keith’s back. Instead, I’m a show of true maturity, he hides behind his hands.

Lance hears the door close, and he listens to the black paladin’s footsteps as he crosses to the bed. The chair squeaks when he sits.

Lance musters his composure just in time to see Shiro graze Keith’s forehead as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.

Shiro frowns at the oxygen mask and IV tube. His posture sags, and when his hands return to his lap, he wrings them together.

Even though he’s mortified that he was discovered in an intimate position with their leader’s younger brother, Lance couldn’t stand to see Shiro looking so fragile.

“Hey,” he ventures. His voice is rough and thick with sleep, so he clears it and tries again. “He’s okay. No lasting damage.”

 _Well_ , Lance thinks, _except for the years he might have scared off my life_.

Pressing his palms together, Shiro leans forward and adds, “Because of you.”

Lance feels a fierce blush crawl up his neck.

He backpedals, but Shiro interrupts him.

He pins Lance in place with his sincere gaze, “Thank you.”

Lance’s eyes dart away, “Um, yeah. You’re, uh, welcome?” He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s nothing? I would never... wouldn’t ever let anything happen to him. To Keith.” His ears warm and he stutters, “I mean! I wouldn’t let anything happen to any of you.” He babbles, “I mean, I didn’t save him just because we’re a team! I saved him because he’s him.”

Lance hopes that a black hole will spontaneously occur and swallow him whole. Though, that’s probably not how that works: Pidge and Hunk would know, and they’d even explain after laughing at Lance’s attempt to science.

A knowing smile tugs one corner of Shiro’s lips upward and distracts Lance from his wandering thoughts.

It’s also an effective halt to Lance’s verbal vomit.

His eloquence returns, “Um.”

Some of the tension drains from Shiro’s shoulder. His laugh is light, and his gaze is soft when it rests on the pair in the bed.

Something tight and nervous in Lance’s chest loosens.

“How long?”

Lance glances away, “A few weeks.”

Shiro chuckles again.

The sound wakes Keith. He shifts around and furrows his brow, and then he blinks at them.

The concerned crinkle in the corners of Shiro’s eyes return.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” Shiro’s voice is gentle.

Lance sort of expects Keith to recoil when he notices they’ve got company, but he remains uncharacteristically docile, soothed by the pleasant warmth.

He might even wriggle a little closer to Lance.

Seemingly unbothered by their openly affectionate spooning, Keith reaches up to remove the mask and rasp, “M’fine.”

Lance rolls his eyes.

Shiro shakes his head fondly, and then he produces a thermos and grabs two paper cups from the nearby counter. He pours them both a cup of tea.

 _Tea_ is _universal,_ Lance notes, _and we have a lot of it._

Aloud, he mutters, “How did I not know this?”

He’d barely acknowledged the cup Pidge brought him earlier; it sat mostly full on the side table.

Shiro gives him a strange look, and Lance shrugs.

The black paladin gestures for them to drink. Lance helps Keith sit up, and the steamy tea chases away the lingering cold. “Hunk’s trying to make soup now.”

Keith takes a few sips and then he slumps bonelessly against Lance, who supports their combined weight.

In spite of Keith’s poor posture and physical laxitude, he seems more alert. The glaze of exhaustion in his eyes fades away.

In a clear voice, Keith asks, “When can I get out of here?”

Lance groans in response to the question, but he expected it.

Keith’s unusual compliance couldn’t last forever; truthfully, it sort of scared Lance: He’d seen Keith pilot his lion with broken ribs, and they’d basically been forced to manhandle him into a pod.

Shiro answers, “Coran’s going to come down after you both eat and check your temperature. If you’re at an acceptable level, you’re free to go, but only if you agree to rest. No training for at least 48 hours.”

Keith scowls and starts to protest.

Shiro and Lance make eye contact.

And Lance knows everything will be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t ask me why the paladin armor isn’t water tight or rated for the extreme temperatures of space. Let’s just imagine they’re malfunctioning? I guess.
> 
> All comments and criticisms are appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://sunflower-le-tournesol.tumblr.com/)


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